


I Am Lost in a Sea of Emotion

by peeisstoredintheheart



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M, FUC K, Fay - Freeform, I, I dont really know, M/M, SO, day, enjoy john dying j guess, i just wanted to post something for johns death fau, im on mobile excuse, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 18:14:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11926458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peeisstoredintheheart/pseuds/peeisstoredintheheart
Summary: enjoy john dying yallincludes john/marthas weddingeliza/alex weddingsome very graphic porn scenes(jokes it's not gonna be graphic) lamsjohns deathalexs reactionhenry laurens writing a letterblah blah. blah i dont know whaf im even doing





	I Am Lost in a Sea of Emotion

**Author's Note:**

> i dont know

John felt nothing for this woman. He suppose she was nice enough, very pleasant, and definitely loved him, but he really, felt nothing. Yes, he does think the women are very beautiful, but he can't bring himself to habor any real attraction. Now, the pretty young men and boys he saw, that was another story. Men weren't as soft or delicate, and had nothing against being a little rough, and God, John Laurens did love that about them. Now, women, women were much softer and smaller, and hated even the smallest amount of dirt. Like Martha. Martha held her looks very highly, and spoke gently, lauging when only necessary, and was very uptight. He couldn't stand that about her.

 

Alexander was different than all other men he's seen. He was small, delicate and fragile looking, but he truly was anything but. Loud, abrasive, one of the most ungraceful men he's ever seen. Alexander could hold himself with grace, used hard-earned money to buy the best uniforms he could, but when he paid no attention to it, or rushed when overcome with any sort of emotion, he would stumble and loose control. He also seemed to have the worst luck, always being in the wrong place at the wrong time. John loved everything about him. How, Alexander, his dear boy, also loved the rough charm of men, but, differently, loved the soft delicateness of women.

Alexander was his own, and belonged, truly belonged, to one person only.

 

That person was John.

He remembers Alexander's wedding with striking clearancy, despite being piss-drunk at that point. He couldn't tell you a lit of things about that night, but he could tell you the words he shared with Alexander and Angelica, as well as the emotions he was overcame with as he lost the battle of his Alexander, to a pretty young woman named Elizabeth.

 

It's heartbreaking, but Alexander was rarely so happy.

He remembered the first time he claimed Alexander. The first time of many. Alexander looked so wonderful, he always did. He remembers the dark ribbon that slipped from Alexander's wavy, red hair. The small tears that gathered in his icy violet-blue eyes, and he never forgot the smallest details. He spent his time, worshipping his favorite alter, the soft, but malnourished skin that was lightly marred by scars from battle, gently kissed by the sun, pale in most places, and a slight tan in few others. The beautiful freckles scattered around, barely there, but ever so clear once you find them. The noises his boy had made, oh, how they rang in his ears even now, a nice contrast from the usual ringing of cannon fire and muskets.

 

He'll never forget the hazy minutes after, Alexander curling up next to him, looking even younger in his sleepy state, the years the war had taxed on melting away.

He wishes he had drawn it.

 

His death, John does not remember as clearly. He remembers charging into battle, praying for his friends' safety, and for the end of the war. It wasn't truly battle, though. The war had alreay been over, and what was simply an ambush turned into a bloodbath. He tried to save his soldiers, the brave Americans, (they were Americans, as they faught for their nation. They weren't property. They were the strongest members of the military, in his opinion.) as they were to be freed by the end of the war. He had a sinking feeling, musket fire ringing in his ears, until he noticed the blood that started pouring from his abdomen. He didn't feel any pain, his ears filling with a buzz, falling from his horse, one of his (brave) soldiers dragging him closer to the river, so he could get one last look at peace. The pain hit suddenly, though he didn't cry out. He stared at the setting sun, getting reminded of Alexander. The delicate orange of his hair, and the far of purplish-bluish-pink almost resembling his eyes. He smiled, closing his eyes with the thought of his dear boy.

 

Alexander isn't quite sure what he's expecting. Elizabeth starts reading the letter. (From Henry Laurens? Why would Henry write to _him_ ) He wasn't expecting the tidal wave of emotions, a sea surrounding him as his quill fell from his hand. 

Dread. 

Sorrow. 

Calm. Why... Why calm? He realized, everything hitting him once more, overwhelming and loud. He couldn't tell where he was anymore, slowly sinking farther from the light. Dread. Dread in realizing just whaf this meant for him. His dear John was dead. Sorrow. Sorrow as it set in that _Jacky was dead_. 

Calm. He felt calm. Calm knowing that he no longer cared. He no longer cared about anything. What he did, how he might died, the stress of starting a new nation, he couldn't bring himself to care.<

_And that was alright._


End file.
